The Physician: Medical Science and God

In the 11^th century, Christians were not welcome in Persia, so in the film, The Physician (2013), Rob Cole, a Christian, pretends to be Jewish in order to travel from Western Europe to study at the medical school of Ibn Sina, a famous physician in Isfahan. He eventually reveals his religion as that of “the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” when he is on trial before the local imam. The Jews there doubtlessly feel used and betrayed. As interesting as interreligious controversy can be, I contend that the nature of Cole’s crime is more significant from the standpoint of religion itself. In short, the film illustrates what bad effects are likely to come from committing a category mistake with respect to religion and another domain. Whether conflating distinct domains or erasing the boundary between them, category mistakes had diminished the credibility of religion as being over-reaching by the time that the film was made. As for the matter of interreligious differences, the sheer pettiness by which the three Abrahamic religions that share the same deity have made mole hills into untraversable mountains is hardly worthy of attention, whereas that which makes religion as a domain of phenomena unique and thus distinct from other, even related domains, is in need of further work. The film could have done more in this regard.

The full essay is at "The Physician." 

Hope Gap: A Critique of Institutional Religion

Organized or institutional religion as the Roman Catholic Church is in the background in the 2019 European film, Hope Gap. Even with such names as Grace and Angela, religious connotations are present. In fact, the film can be interpreted, at least in part, as a critique on religion in general and Catholicism in particular. The medium of film can indeed play a vital role in critiquing sacred cows from the vantagepoint of an oblique angle or a safe distance.

The full essay is at "Hope Gap."

The Seventh Sign

Carl Schultz’s film, The Seventh Sign (1988), centers on the theological motif of the Second Coming, the end of the world when God’s divine Son, Jesus, returns to judge the living and even the dead. In the movie, Jesus returns as the wrath of the Father, which has already judged humanity as having been too sinful to escape God’s wrath. David Bannon, who is the returned Jesus in the film, is there to break the seven seals of the signs leading up to the end of the world, and to witness the end of humanity. Abby Quinn, the pregnant wife of Russell Quinn, asks David (an interesting name-choice, given that Jesus is of the House of David in the Gospel narratives) whether the chain (of signs) can be broken. How this question plays out in the film’s denouement is interesting from a theological standpoint. Less explicit, but no less theologically interesting, is what role humans can and should have in implementing God’s law. The film both heroizes and castigates our species.

The full essay is at "The Seventh Sign."

The Crow

Considering the amount of screentime devoted to raw violence, it may come as a surprise that The Crow (1994) is actually about love. Not that the film is about an abusive romantic relationship, for the respect that is necessary for love is instantly expunged as soon as violence enters into the equation. The infliction of violence is a manifestation of self-love in the sordid sense of self-idolatry, rather than of love that is directed to other people. So, it may be difficult to fathom how violence can serve love, and even be a manifestation of love, as The Crow illustrates.

The full essay is at "The Crow."

Religion as an Academic Area of Study

What is religion? What does the domain of religion cover? What is excluded? Does opinion eclipse knowledge in marking the boundaries? Should we allow empirical self-identification claims from self-proclaimed religionists to veto any offending established knowledge of what the religion is? I contend that an atheist who claims he is nonetheless a practitioner of Judaism, Christianity, or Islam does not alter the fact that the three Abrahamic religions are monotheist. Atheist Judaism, for instance, is an oxymoron born of an arrogant subjectivity that offends reason itself and therefore cannot be valid.

The full essay is at "Religion as an Academic Area of Study." 

Religious Themes Secularized Through Film

One approach to infusing religion in a film is to utilize a secular lens to keep overt religious content hidden such that only its messages that can be stated in a secular way come through. The basic values of a religion can be transmitted without specific religious belief-claims possibly turning off some viewers. Given the mass audience that a typical film can reach, the medium is a good means for presenting people with values that come out of religion but have their own intrinsic worth apart from the related religious belief-claims. Film can play a role, therefore, in enabling the values of a religion to survive the religion’s downfall. From watching the film, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019), a viewer would not know that Fred Rogers was an ordained Presbyterian minister. His wife says at one point in the film that Fred reads scripture and prays daily, but that is the only clue in the film that his religious faith is the source of his motivation for and messages on his show, “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood.”

The full essay is at "A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood."

Christianity on Climate Change

First Reformed (2017) contains fundamental ideas concerning the human condition and wrestles with the relationship between religion and politics.  Ideas play a significant role in the film, hence it can be used in support of the thesis that film is a viable medium in which to make philosophical (and theological) ideas transparent and derive dramatic tension from clashing ideas. In this film, the ideas that clash concern the role of religion in the political issue of climate change—or is that issue primarily religious?

The full essay is at "First Reformed."

Self-Delusion Enabled by Religion: Former U.S. House Minority Leader Tom Delay and Monopolist John D. Rockefeller

It is hardly news that religion, even one based on divine love reaching down to “love thy neighbor,” can be stretched or simply ignored as needed by the desires for power and money. When these two are both engaged, religious rationales may be attempted nonetheless. I have in mind here the cases of former U.S. House Majority Leader Tom DeLay (R-TX) and the monopolist John D. Rockefeller. Just in evoking their Christian faith to justify their sordid conduct in politics and business, respectively, these two men may be seen as astounding cases of the length to which adherents can go in using religion even in spite of obvious hypocrisy.

On January 10, 2011, Tom DeLay was sentenced to three years in prison on charges of money laundering and conspiracy to commit money laundering. He had used a political action committee to illegally send corporate donations to Texas House candidates in 2002. Prosecutors claimed the money had helped Republicans take control of the Texas House. That in turn enabled the Republican majority to push through a Delay-engineered congressional redistricting plan that sent more Texas Republicans to Congress in 2004, strengthening DeLay's political power. In the face of this charge, DeLay simply repeated his longstanding claim that he did nothing wrong. "I can't be remorseful for something I don't think I did," DeLay said in a 10-minute speech to the judge.[i] This statement is not unlike those of John D. Rockefeller, the founder of the monopoly Standard Oil, which was accused in the late nineteenth century of restraint of trade. For his part, Rockefeller saw himself as a Noah or Christ figure in that he was trying to save struggling refiners from ruin by buying them up.

Ida Tarbell, Rockefeller's chief critic, believed the titan was under a sort of self-delusion. For example, Tarbell, whose father was an oil producer who resisted Rockefeller's grasp, pointed out that the titan's "Christ-like" efforts to "save" drowning refiners included ironically drowning those who refused to come aboard Standard Oil. Did Noah kill any animals who refused to come on the ark? Did Christ drown any people who refused to be saved? Clearly not. Rockefeller's application of religion to his monopolization is thus suspect in terms of his actions. It is possible that Delay suffered from a similar rationalization or state of denial.

Just as Rockefeller, who attended Church more than once a week through his 90s insisted that things are right between him and his God, DeLay pointed to his faith in Jesus as, in effect, rendering the verdict nugatory in terms of what really mattered. To be sure, DeLay probably did view himself as innocent of criminal conduct. "This criminalization of politics is very dangerous" he charged, "It's dangerous to our system. Just because somebody disagrees with you they got to put you in jail, bankrupt you, destroy your family."[2]  Antithetically, Gary Cobb, the lead prosecutor, averred that DeLay had "put his principles, ideals and beliefs above the laws of Texas." Particularly when one's religious beliefs are invoked along with a criminal defense (i.e., that it was politics that was being criminalized), one should be on guard against the possibility of self-delusion. 

Both Rockefeller and DeLay had immense power, and their respective views of non-culpability bore on their use of power. The ends justifying the means rationale allows for a slippery slope, which in turn can enable delusion with regard to culpability. Of course, in DeLay's case, an investigator could have simply looked at the money exchanges and compare them to the law. According to The New York Times, "a jury determined that he conspired with two associates to use his Texas-based political action committee to send $190,000 in corporate money to an arm of the Washington-based Republican National Committee. The RNC then sent the same amount to seven Texas House candidates. Under Texas law, corporate money can't go directly to political campaigns."[3] Yet as clear as this sounds, it is surprising how divergent DeLay and Cobb were with respect to their respective interpretations. If we take the verdict as correct, we might find it troubling that DeLay not only denied any culpability after the verdict, but also went on to invoke his salubrious condition in virtue of his religious faith. Such an invocation can easily turn into a justification, with the result being that great wrongs, such as the Crusades, can be done in the name of a religion of love. Followers of Jesus, who says not to lift a sword, have done just that in droves through history. DeLay invoked his religious faith and yet acted like one of the money-changers in the Temple. Rockefeller drowned struggling rivals who refused to be bought by Standard Oil, the great “combination” that Rockefeller himself designed as an alternative to destructive competition. Clearly, religion can be manipulated or ignored by even its adherents. Yet it is also possible that religion itself, being pliable on account of the presence of interpretation, support or enable its role in hypocrisy.

For more on John D. Rockefeller's use (or exploitation?) of religion, see God's Gold, available at Amazon. 

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1. James C. McKinley, “DeLay Sentenced to 3 Years in Conspiracy and Money-Laundering Case,” The New York Times, January 10, 2011.

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid.

An Interfaith Declaration of Business (Ethics)

Released in 1994, “An Interfaith Declaration: A Code of Ethics on International Business for Christians, Muslims, and Jews” is comprised of two parts: principles and guidelines. The four principles (justice, mutual respect/love, stewardship and honesty) are described predominantly in religious terms, devoid of any connection to business. In contrast, the guidelines invoke the principles in their ethical sense, devoid of any religious connotation. The disconnect in applying religious ethics to business is not merely in books; the heavenly and earthly cities are as though separated by a great ocean of time.

 Are these religions applicable to business?    Wikipedia

The full essay is at "An Interfaith Declaration of Business."

Source:

An Interfaith Declaration: A Code of Ethics on International Business for Christians, Muslims, and Jews.

Related paper: "Religion in Strategic Leadership: A Positivistic, Normative/Theological and Strategic Analysis," Journal of Business Ethics (2005) 57: 221-239.

Related book: God's Gold  The text goes through the history of Christian thought on how greed is related to wealth and profit-seeking, and proffers an explanation for why the historical shift was from anti-wealth to a pro-wealth dominant stance. 

Religious Sources of Business Ethics: How Far Along Are We?

If Business Ethics for Dummies is any indication, the topic of religious sources for business ethics must have gained steam through the first decade of the twenty-first century. Increasing interest in such a topic in the midst of modernity is ironic, or counter-intuitive. For philosophers without any degrees in religion, the temptation might be to dilettante over to this topic in order to proffer an opinion. The result for the rest of us could well be a false sense of the extent of knowledge on the topic.

In Business Ethics for Dummies, Norman Bowie—a philosopher assisted by a journalist who has written other for Dummies books—discusses topics in several religions to demonstrate how they can be relevant to business ethics. With regard to Christianity, Bowie starts out on most solid ground in pointing to how Goldman Sachs has violated the Golden Rule. Specifically, the bank sold mortgage-based bonds (e.g. Timberwolf) that the bankers admitted internally were “crap” and shorted in proprietary trading even as Goldman sales people were selling the securities to clients. It is unlikely that the people at Goldman would have relished being misled on something they were sold.

In terms of the Ten Commandments, Bowie wonders whether it is for Jews only. He concludes that not stealing, lying, or envying others’ possessions is consistent with business ethics. It is questionable how useful such a platitude might be to actual business practitioners.

On the topic of Biblical teachings on wealth, Bowie opines that “the ethical teachings in the [Bible] can and should be consistent with normal business practices” (p. 27). To get to this conclusion, he suggests that Abraham established the concept of private property by purchasing a burial site for his wife, Sarah. Bowie even suggests that the exchanged evinces the essence of all business transactions.

Regarding the rich man getting through the eye of the needle, Bowie discounts the typical conclusion that Jesus was pointing to a dichotomy between being wealthy and being saved by interpreting Jesus’ statement—“With God all things are possible”—as meaning that the rich can indeed enter the Kingdom of God. Bowie will only admit that the Bible “discourages greed and the excessive accumulation of wealth and encourages generosity” (p. 28). The philosopher sidesteps the tension or outright contradiction between the rich man getting through the eye of the needle (a view that was salient in early Christianity) and the virtues of liberality and magnificence (which were salient in the Renaissance). Such tension, which is discussed in my book, God's Gold, assumes that the two virtues require continued wealth (to be given away in on-going philanthropy) rather than simply involving a once-and-for-all getting rid of all of one’s possessions before following Christ. That the “eye of the needle” story and the Christian virtues requiring wealth have each been dominant at different points in the history of Christian thought is missed by Bowie’s blanket statement on a definitive Biblical position on greed, excessive wealth, and generosity.

With regard to polytheistic religions, including Buddhism and Hinduism, Bowie claims that because they “believe in more than one god,” they “place more emphasis on individual actions and thoughts in the quest for enlightenment or elevation to the next plane of existence” (p. 32). Would not having more gods to call on reduce the reliance on the human’s actions and thoughts? I can find no credible basis for Bowie’s assertion.

In terms of Buddhism in particular, Bowie brackets Theravada Buddhism wherein only poor monks can be enlightened and concludes that for the lay Buddhists having wealth sans attachment is consistent with enlightenment. However, by including hoarding in attachment, Bowie implicates wealth itself.

Turning to Hinduism, Bowie contends that the religion is relevant in being reduced to its non-dualist (i.e., monist) Advaita Vedanta school’s “all in one, one in all” principle.  “Hinduism teaches that all beings and things are both themselves and all other beings and things. Thus, the rationale for treating others well is really one of self-interest; if you hurt someone else, you hurt yourself. Because everything is made of the same essence, you are everything in the world and everything in the world is you” (p. 33). Bowie concludes that business and profit-making are not considered bad according to Hindu teachings.

Bowie succumbs to a fallacy, however, in assuming that something else is me just because it has the same substance. A cat and I am both made out of Brahman, but this is not to say that I am the cat or that I’m hurt when the cat is hurt. In other words, everything in the world is made of the same stuff, but that does not mean that the specific entity that is me extends to the world. There is a difference between saying that everything is made of the same thing and that everything is me. Compassion in Hinduism stems from the former rather than the latter. Furthermore, Bowie over-extends the business term of self-interest in applying it to his misconception of the Hindu monist teaching that Atman (soul) is Brahman.

Generally speaking, uncovering possible religious sources of business ethics cannot be made easier by re-casting those sources in business terms, nor should the task be compromised by glossing over religious teachings from the exterior vantage-point of philosophy.

To be sure, dilettantism is not unusual in the field of business ethics. Management scholars tend to become philosophers (sometimes even without a single course in ethical theory) and both management and philosophy scholars may become political scientists as the field of business & government (e.g. regulation) is typically lumped in with business ethics. Furthermore, sociology is often “picked up” on the cuff as social norms are salient in the field of business & society (e.g., CSR), which is also lumped in with business ethics. It is as if getting a doctorate in management, philosophy, political science, or sociology (and now religious studies) gives the holder a pass in any of these other disciplines under the cover of “multidisciplinary.” The proof is in the pudding, however, as evinced in the shoddy writing of “scholars” who venture too far from their native fauna. Perhaps even more than intelligence, self-restraint is necessary for solid scholarship.

Source:

Norman Bowie and Meg Schneider, Business Ethics for Dummies (New York: Wiley, 2011).

See Skip Worden, God's Gold, Christianized Ethical Leadership, and Spiritual Leadership in Business, both available at Amazon.

Religion in Modernity: Holding Back Evolutionary Science?

Scientists insist that neither theism nor atheism is intrinsic to evolutionary theory. They view the adversarial tone as coming from the proponents of particular theologies (e.g., creationism). Ignorance, both of the science and the theological dimension, unnecessarily exacerbates the general perception of conflicting points; and for added fun, sheer intransience, or stubbornness, rigidly paralyzes many of the most stalwart partisans from backing off long-held positions as if the world froze in place in 1925. In this essay, I take up the matter of faulty understandings of science, both favorable and unfavorable to it, as a partial explanation of why approximately 40% of the U.S. population surveyed in 2005 said evolution is false.[1] Admittedly, I am overgeneralizing here, as the percentages in Texas and Arkansas were doubtless much higher than in California and Massachusetts.[2]

Charles Darwin in the 1830s. Aided by the field of genetics, the science has advanced considerably since his time. (Wikimedia Commons)

Dr. Jerry Coyne, an evolutionary biologist, proffers the following explanation of the antagonism. “A lot of the resistance turns out to be based not in ignorance but on simple obstinacy that [the science] seems to contravene people’s religious beliefs.”[3] The “seem to” here reflects the view held by many evolutionary biologists that the evolutionary explanation does not contradict the theological beliefs—it being the theologians who view the science as antithetical (and, for a long time, heretical). Coyne even asserts that the science can treat the supernatural explanations as testable, empirically, though this is a minority view among evolutionary scientists. For their part, theologians such as those pursuing the intelligent design theory (i.e., God is behind natural selection) assume that scientific knowledge can be subjected to theological analysis. As though two people straining across a bridge to shake hands, both the scientific and theological ends have attempted to assimilate the other. As laudable as reconciliation is, the well-intended efforts are bound to come up short if, as Von Rad demonstrates in Old Testament Theology, empirical and faith histories belong to different, albeit not disparate, categories.[4]

For instance, advocates of intelligent design (i.e., by God) once used blood-clotting as a case of irreducible complexity that only could have been designed by an intelligent being. Coyne points out evolutionary scientists have since discovered another possible means—one out of evolutionary theory. This finding does not of course mean that the biological explanation became the king on the hill simply by entering the game as an alternative; additional scientific study would be necessary for us to be able to assess whether the alternative is the one responsible for blood-clotting. Similarly, being able to get living matter from inanimate materials in a lab-setting would not necessarily mean that life emerged on Earth 4.5 billion years ago that way.[5] That is to say, the finding of an alternative means is possible chemically and biologically does not mean that it was the means by which life began on Earth.

That the reconciling devises have their limits owing to the more fundamental distinction of categories does not mean it is ok to eggerate the dichotomy. For example, characterizing the two ends of the bridge as fact and belief, respectively, distances the scientific realm inordinately from matters of faith.

Regarding the “fact” side, the scientific method functions by eliminating alternative explanations (i.e., hypotheses). That is, science never proves anything. Therefore, framing the relation of science to religion as one of a “fact-belief” dichotomy would be misleading. Unfortunately, Coyne himself attempts such a dichotomy. Referring to evolutionary theory, he states, “It’s had a million chances to be wrong, but it’s always come out right. When that happens in science, we consider it to be true in a scientific sense.”[6] Well, such truth is neither of the theological variety, nor that of the factual either; rather, the truth associated with many, many alternative hypotheses having been rejected is more of a practical sort, as in not expecting the theory to be overturned any time soon. I wonder if astronomers used this variant in referring to the Earth being flat or the Sun orbiting around the planet. As Thomas Kuhn suggests in his text on scientific revolutions, theories still thought to be valid tend to have incredible staying power, as though a houseguest who has overstayed his welcome, even in spite of new evidence. Kuhn concludes that the scientists emotionally (and especially financially) invested in the current scientific paradigm must die out before “the usurper” can claim for itself the mantle of defaulthood.

Science, it turns out, seeks communion with factual truth, yet cannot grasp it. As if only being able to dimly make out a fuzzy shape through a window darkened by soot, a scientist (or any human) can never truly see things as they are.[7] Practical “truth” is less sturdy than we might think. At the same time, that evolution as we have come to understand it is subject to the limitations inherent in scientific method does not mean that the working theory is likely to be overturned in the future.

Nor does the possibility of being replaced in the future mean that evolutionary theory must be a belief. Conflating science with fact artificially embellishes the scientific enterprise, and classifying scientific knowledge as belief, as if scientific findings are on the same field as religious belief, does not do science justice. Similarly, treating religious belief as if it were knowledge or even fact gilds the divine lily in overstating the degree of certainty achievable, and classifying religion as superstition does not do the religious experience justice.

Reaching a more precise, not to mention accurate, understanding of science, concerning both its strengths and weaknesses, can contribute indirectly to situating religious belief as belief. Admittedly, the intransience of a religionist assuming consciously or otherwise that he or she cannot possibly be wrong on matters beyond the limits of human cognition and perception fortifies any denial in keeping the door closed on anything learned on the difference between itself and belief. However, if science can come to religion’s aid in insisting that religiosity is not mere superstition because only the latter is empirically based (e.g., recording ghosts by camera), perhaps the walls will come down. Therefore, both directly and indirectly, achieving a more precise, accurate understanding of evolutionary biology and science itself can contribute to humanity moving past an old, tired antagonism overblown by human nature and fraught with too many belligerent ghosts who could otherwise finally go home.

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[1] Jon Miller, Eugenie Scott, and Shinji Okamoto, “Public Acceptance of Evolution,” Science, Vol. 313 (No. 5788), August 11, 2006, pp. 765-766.

[2] Accordingly, the decision of the pollsters to show results for E.U. states separately and yet aggregate the results for the U.S. states is suboptimal both in terms of the knowledge that can be obtained and comparing apples with apples. (i.e., avoiding a category mistake).

[3] Interview conducted online by Dr. Mohamed Noor. Coursera.org.

[4] Reading Von Rad’s text, I developed the perception of the faith history putting flesh on the bones of the empirical history of Israel. In other words, the faith history looked much “thicker,” and thus quite different. One of Von Rad’s principal themes in the text is that the two histories belong to different categories, and thus should not be conflated or even compared.

[5] I have intentionally avoided using “creation of life in a lab” in order to make the point that getting living biomass from certain chemicals can be distinguished (as of another category) from the theological Creation. Lacking precision on both sides can account in part to conflating the two and thus inadvertently committing a category mistake.

[6] Jerry Coyne Interview.

[7] The darkened window metaphor I take from Augustine. The expression “things in themselves” is none other than Kant’s famed numinal realm, which philosophers cannot get to because the phenomenal realm of space and time structures, and thus delimits or circumscribes our perceptions and cognitions. Another philosopher, Louis Dupré, argues that theism can be defined as the belief, or faith, that more exists than that which lies within the range of human cognition and perception. In my paraphrasing, I am aware that “exists” presents the danger of reducing the theological to the metaphysical. Dupré’s point is that a transcendental referent and an experience of transcendence is possible only if a person has faith oriented beyond the limits of human cognition and perception.

Religion and Psychology: The Case of Jemima Wilkinson, Founder of the Society of Universal Friends

Jemima Wilkinson (1752-1819) pivoted from a secular, rather wild youth to being a charismatic preacher and the first woman to found and head a religious denomination. The circumstances of her unusual transformation, including her return to the land of the living from a typhoid coma as a genderless spirit, raise fundamental questions about the nature of the relation of religion to psychology (and, moreover, to secularity).

According to Chuck Mitchell, a curator in western New York, Wilkinson fell deathly ill with typhoid in 1776. Waking from a coma that had lasted for days, she claimed that “she had died and been resurrected as a genderless spirit sent by God.”[1] 

Jemima Wilkinson did not shy away from manifesting outwardly her androgynous identity.

She vowed to remain celibate in order to keep her body pure for God, and rejected her birth name, going from that point on as “the Public Universal Friend.” Whereas she had been “a bit of a wild child” and not at all religious, her sickness transformed her self-identity. She began preaching with charisma and an impeccable knowledge of the Scriptures. “The spirit of life from God has descended to earth,” she preached, “to warn a lost and guilty, perishing, dying world, to flee from the wrath that is to come.”[2] At the time, the evangelical Second Great Awakening was in full bloom in her area of the country. With her ensuing popularity in hand, she founded the Society of Universal Friends, thus becoming the first woman in the U.S. to found a religious group.

Consisting of former Quakers, the Society was naturally controversial at Quaker meetings. Critics trounced on Wilkinson’s post-coma identity as a genderless, resurrected-spirit, which they viewed as a particularly strange aspect of the religious pioneer’s personality.[3] That religious critics would resort to psychology must have felt like a thorn in the side of the androgynous spirit so opposed to the prospect of the rising secularity eclipsing religion amid the Second Great Awakening. 

Is it unfair, therefore, to analyze her from a psychological standpoint? Furthermore, would doing so invalidate her religious transformation, or had she suffered a massive psychological (and perhaps neurological) change while in the coma? The implications for religion itself are huge. If Jemima’s religious awakening was actually a result of neurological/psychological damage from a very high fever, then any religious experience or identity—especially if strange from a secular point of view—would be on the proverbial chopping block.  

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[1] “History Detectives,” PBS.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Jemima’s dismissiveness of her physical body is in line with Platonism and the South Asian religion of Jainism. 

Entitlement to Exceptionalism

John Blake of CNN asks, “Have you ‘walked the aisle’ to ‘pray the prayer?’ Did you ever ‘name and claim’ something and, after getting it, announce, ‘I’m highly blessed and favored?’ . . . If this is you, some Christian pastors and scholars have some bad news: You may not know what you’re talking about. They say that many contemporary Christians have become pious parrots onstantly repeating Christian phrases that they don’t understand or distort.”[1] Unfortunately, the epistemological brain-freeze extends beyond religion onto business, thanks to marketers. 

The full essay is at "Entitlement to Exceptionalism."

1. John Blake, “Do You Speak Christian?” CNN, July 31, 2011.